


Let's Bake a Cake

by arcamenel_alatariel



Series: Discord: Bellamione Coven Valentine's Event [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breadmione, Discord: Bellamione Coven Valentine’s Event, F/F, Great British Bake Off - Freeform, Honestly this could probably be G, I used T to be extra safe for the kiddos, Other, but magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcamenel_alatariel/pseuds/arcamenel_alatariel
Summary: Narcissa is coerced into participating in Paul Hollywood's newest project: Great British Bake Off - Celebrity Witches and Wizards Edition.In response to SFW Prompt 21. We happen to be out buying groceries at the same time, and keep running into each other/getting in each other’s way while picking things up.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Series: Discord: Bellamione Coven Valentine's Event [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156184
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Let's Bake a Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to SandwichBandit for the super fast and last minute beta. And thanks to the residents of The Chateau for encouraging this thing to happen.
> 
> Any and all feedback is welcome! Just you know... nicely. =D

_Okay, Cissa, you can do this. How hard can this be? It’s a damned cake. You survived two wars. You lied to the Dark Lord. You got out of a marriage blood-pact for Salazar’s sake. You can bake a damn cake._

* * *

Two weeks ago Narcissa had gotten called upon by her old friend, and Severus’ cousin, Paul “Hollywood” Prince. Narcissa had spent several summers in her Hogwarts years at Paul’s family vacation home in the south of France. Her nose in a book while laying out on the private beach while Sev tinkered with some potion or spell and Paul tinkered with some recipe or hairstyle. Paul had always been a bit of a peacock, bringing his latest batch of confections to the tea-shop where a gaggle of girls invariably seemed to be waiting. But owning an extremely lucrative series of bakeries around the wizarding world hadn’t been enough for Paul. No, he wanted the kind of fame and notoriety that he just couldn’t get from behind an apron or a desk. So while Severus and Narcissa had hushed conversations about their fears of upcoming war, Paul had buggered off to Los Angeles, using the ridiculous surname “Hollywood,” claiming to be over a decade younger, and working temp jobs trying to break into the muggle entertainment industry. 

After years of irregular commercial jobs and working as some muggle film director’s assistant he had finally made his break... with a perfectly baked pain au chocolat. The irony still tickled Narcissa. Executive Producer Anna Beattie just happened to be visiting the muggle director. Paul, ever the gentleman had brought them both tea and a pastry. After one bite Anna had practically melted, swearing Paul _must be a magician_ because it was the best thing she had ever put in her mouth. She immediately began pitching baking shows to the BBC and, although they didn’t think a show featuring some unknown ex-pat baker would sell, they finally agreed to a baking competition with an already famous co-host. 

Turns out the “Great British Bake Off” was a huge hit, ending its first season as the #1 show on BBC Two. A few weeks into the filming of the second season Paul had approached the Daily Prophet with a proposition: Bring television to the wizarding world. They would do morning, noon, and evening news broadcasts, and he would produce shows for the afternoon and night. And to kick it all off, they would do a special episode of the Great British Bake Off: Celebrity Witches and Wizards Edition. The winner would choose a charity to receive a 100k galleon prize and, if it was a success, Paul would launch a full season of the show. They had quickly agreed, seeing the enormous potential. All that was left was finding contestants. 

“Cissy, how are you my dear?” Paul’s voice drawled out of the fireplace. He never could turn off the charm.

“I’m very well, Paul, as you would know if you had come to the unveiling of the memorial for those lost in the second wizarding war. It would have been nice if you had spoken about Sev.”

“Oh, Cissy. You know I wanted nothing more than to be there, but I was stuck filming.” _Sure, because there is no way they’d let you off an afternoon of filming for a memorial service._ “Now, may I come in?”

Rolling her eyes at the unapologetic face in the fireplace she snapped, “Of course. But do watch the white settee as you come in.”

A burst of green filled the room and Paul stepped out, running his wand over his crisp button down and slacks. Narcissa motioned at the chair across from her, which noiselessly slid out a foot, “So then, what’s the purpose of the call, _Mr. Hollywood_?” 

“As you may know, I’ve been running a successful television show for the BBC.” _How could I not know? You talk about it every time you call._ “Well, I just signed with The Daily Prophet to start producing television material for the wizarding world. And here’s the best part: We want to premiere a special ‘celebrity’ edition of the Great British Bake Off on opening night! We have everything set, all we need are our contestants!”

“So you’re calling because you want me to use my connections to strong-arm the wizarding elite into embarrassing themselves on your television show?” Her tone was harsh, but had just a hint of playfulness on the edges. Cissa may have been a bit frustrated and disappointed that Paul had left her to deal with the memorial on her own, but she was still proud of him. Salazar forbid he ever find out--his ego was big enough already.

“Actually, no. I was calling to ask if _you_ would be a contestant on the special.”

“Wha- Me? You must be joking, Paul. Not only am I _not_ a celebrity, I’ve never even once opened the door of an oven.” _Does he seriously think I would willingly make a complete and utter fool of myself on public broadcast?_

This time it was Paul’s turn to roll his eyes, “Narcissa, darling, stop playing the ingénue. You know as well as I that you are the talk of the town. Not only are you newly single, your charity work with St. Mungos is literally saving the lives of countless witches and wizards every year… not to mention you happen to be the wealthiest witch in Britain.”

“Even if any of that were true, it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t set foot in a kitchen to do anything but enter the wine cellar.” 

“Cissy, you forget who you’re talking to. I will personally give you lessons, if that’s what it takes to get you to say yes. Your participation will bring a much wider audience than our current contestants. Sure, Harry Potter may be a war hero, but he isn’t a household name in high society.” Looking carefully into her eyes, “And if you participate you’ll be able to promote the new potion addiction recovery program. Imagine all the press and donations you’ll generate?”

_That sly fox. He had this up his sleeve the entire time. He knows how important the PAR Program is to me after… after Lucius’ downward spiral._

Taking in a deep breath and pinching the bridge of her nose she exhaled, “Fine. I’ll do it.” She looked over at the fireplace before giving him the iciest look in her arsenal, “But don’t think this means you’re done. I expect a donation of at least one million galleons to the PAR Program and free ad-space during primetime for at least four months.” 

“I can guarantee three months. I’ll push for four.” _The dolt. I would have settled for one month._

“Deal. I’ll have my solicitor draw up the contract.” 

Paul held out his hand, which Narcissa took and firmly shook. A glimmer in his eye, he chuckled to himself softly for a moment before eyeing the open bottle of wine on the table. “Now that the ugly business part is over, mind if I have a drink with you?”

“Of course, Paul. Let me just fetch you a glass.” 

She wandlessly motioned toward the hutch and a glass floated over, the cabinet door closing silently. 

“Your wandless magic has gotten even better over the years, Cissy. You should be teaching at Hogwarts.” He took the outstretched glass and lifted it, “To Narcissa Callidora Black. While the world oohs and aahs over her beauty, they’ve missed the fact that she is also the brightest witch of her age _by far_.”

Cissa blushed, “Oh, Paul. You do flatter me.” 

“It’s only the truth. That being said, while you may be brilliant at wandless magic, your baking skills might need a _bit_ of honing. Can we decide on a schedule of lessons? We can’t have a _Black_ embarrassing herself on national television.”

* * *

After two solid weeks of lessons, Narcissa was ready to try baking on her own. Or at least that’s what Paul told her. She only had two more weeks left until the taping, so no time like the present. The problem was that for the past two weeks Paul had been bringing all of the ingredients needed for whatever they were going to make that day. While her cellar was full of wine, her pantry was essentially empty. When you have a private chef, why would you need to stock the kitchen? 

And so here she was, Narcissa Black, at a grocery store. 

She pulled out the list that Paul had made her:

4kg - plain all-purpose flour

2kg - self-rising flour

2kg - strong flour

5kg - caster sugar

500g - icing sugar

Cornstarch

Baking powder

Baking soda

Cream of tartar 

500g - salt

2 tins - cocoa powder

Vanilla extract

10 vanilla pods

1L - sunflower or vegetable oil

2L - milk

2kg - unsalted butter (get the good stuff)

4 dozen eggs 

500g - dried fruit and nuts of choice

1-2 cheeses of choice

5 lemons

10 passionfruit

2-3 types of fresh herbs of choice

_This shouldn’t be too hard. Flour should be… Oh for Salazar’s sake. Where would the flour be?_

Narcissa spent the next few minutes pushing her trolley around the store, trying to get some sense of how everything was organized. It seemed to make absolutely no sense. On her third round of the store an oddly familiar woman with wild brown curls took pity on her.

“Can I help you find something, Madame Malfoy?” 

Turning the slightest shade of pink Narcissa clipped, “No, thank you. I’m merely browsing.”

“Are you su--”

Narcissa had already walked off before anyone could notice the absolutely mortifying scene. _Even at the damned grocery store everyone recognized her. Right then, keep to the aisles._

Two aisles later she hit the jackpot. _Yes! Baking supplies! And there are the different flours. Chickpea? Who in their right minds would use that? Almond I understand. I may be a novice in the kitchen, but I’m an expert at eating macarons. Okay, plain all-purpose?_

A honey-toned voice interrupted her search, “I’m terribly sorry, Madame Malfoy, but could I just sneak past you for a bag of strong flour?” 

It was the same brunette from before. 

“Of course, here let me move out of the way.” She pulled her trolley back a yard and added, “It’s Black, by the way. Narcissa Black.”

“Oh my goodness, I’m so, so sorry! Thanks, Madame Black. My starter needs feeding and I’m all out! If I don’t feed her today, she’ll be quite upset with me.” _Her starter needs feeding? Upset? Who eats flour?! What is she on about?_

With a slightly abashed smile, the girl - _no, young woman_ \- trotted down the aisle.

_Now then. I also needed strong flour, self-rising, and then I think sugar is just down there._

Managing to find all the dry ingredients on her list, as well as the vanilla and oil, Narcissa made her way back around the store. She had definitely seen milk somewhere near the back, and contained a satisfied “ha” while nearly running into an oncoming trolley.

“Oh no! I’m so, so sorry, I was a bit caught up in thought and… Oh! It’s you again, Madame Black! Here, let me move.” _That bright-eyed and bushy-tailed brunette. Again._

“Not a problem, Miss…?” 

“Oh yes, I’m sorry!” _Is she always sorry?_ “How rude of me.” _Well at least she’s aware that she has horrible manners._ “I’m Hermione Granger. We’ve met before, but under… less than ideal circumstances,” he tone dropped a bit of its luster.

_Hermione Granger, the war hero. The girl who’d been tortured in front of her eyes by her own sister. Who’d saved Draco’s life. How in Merlin’s name did I forget her?_

“Ah, Miss Granger. I, well, I don’t think there’s anything I could ever say to, well…” _Words, words, where are my words?_

“It’s perfectly fine. It’s in the past. I know you really had no choice, and since the war ended you’ve helped a lot of people. One of my best mates Ron is part of the first group in the PAR Program, actually. And please, call me Hermione. I’m only Miss Granger at work or when I’m in trouble!” 

_Did she just make a joke? How can she be so calm after everything? How can she be so happy? How can her deep brown eyes still glimmer with laughter?_

“Right then, Hermione it is. I suppose you should also call me Narcissa.” 

After a pregnant pause Cissa stammered out, “I’m… I’m very glad to see you doing well. After all you did for Draco, for me. After what my sister did… all while I just stood by. If there’s ever anything I can do, please reach out…” _I need to stop blithering on. What is wrong with me?_

“Forgive me, I need to find the butter.” _And my brain, apparently._

After several more minutes all Cissa had left to find was produce, and thankfully she remembered where that could be found. 

Coming around the corner she let out an exasperated sigh. _Hermione, again?_

“Why, look who it is! Narcissa, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me around this grocery store!” The same honeyed laughter rang between them, and Narcissa couldn’t help letting a small smile escape. 

“I could say the same of you, Hermione. Now tell me, what are you getting in the produce section so I can verify that you aren’t simply here to stalk me.” The small smile bent into a full grin as she eyed the brunette knowingly. 

“Well if you must know, I’m looking for some unique flavor profiles for a croquembouche I’m making as part of a baking contest I’m on in a few weeks.” 

Narcissa’s jaw almost dropped on the floor. _Salazar’s snake. You’ve GOT to be joking. Hermione was going to be on Paul’s show. Well, she would not make a fool of herself. If a muggle-born could bake then dammit she could, too._

“What a coincidence! I believe you may be my competitor. Paul Hollywood’s wizarding world television premiere of the Great British Bake Off, I assume?”

“Yes, that’s it! How funny! Well, I guess I’d better keep my ideas to myself. Wouldn’t want to give my competition an advantage!” Winking, she pulled her trolley around and started to walk past Narcissa. As she passed by she quirked an eyebrow and whispered, voice several tones lower, “May the best witch win.”


End file.
